


Sundays

by drarryangels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death, Draco adores his son, Family, Family Rituals, Godric's Hollow, Grief, James and Lily's grave, M/M, Magic-sensitive Scorpius, Parenthood, Post-War, Sweet Scorpius Malfoy, visiting graves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29172111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryangels/pseuds/drarryangels
Summary: Most Sundays, Harry seemed almost normal. He smiled small smiles that Draco knew were for his and Scorpius's benefit, and kept up polite conversation until they reached the gates into the cemetery. Then he'd get awful quiet, and go on ahead without them. He'd take his time with his parents, and then he'd come back with red eyes, and wouldn't smile until they were home again. That was most Sundays.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 81





	Sundays

**Author's Note:**

> Limited editing again because I'm perpetually exhausted. Hope you like <3

"Come here, darling," Draco called, reaching his hand out towards Scorpius. "Daddy's waiting."

Scorpius turned his face up to Draco from where he was sat in the front lawn. "But Papa. Daddy said I could play outside."

Draco smiled and knelt down by Scorpius. "He said you could play outside until it's time to go, love."

Scorpius sighed and dug his fingernails into the dirt. Draco ran a hand lightly over the top of his head, letting his white blonde curls skim back with the movement and the slight breeze. 

"I'm not ready," Scorpius said, sticking out his bottom lip and pushing his hands further into the ground. 

Draco patted his back lightly. "I know, darling, but this is important to Daddy and I. And I promise that when we get back, we'll all go out for ice cream, alright?"

Scorpius sighed heavily again. Draco smiled. He loved Scorpius's sighs. They reminded him so much of the way Harry sighed when he was tired or frustrated, and he couldn't help the sweet turn in his stomach when Scorpius did it, his eyes big and green in his pale face. 

Scorpius stood and Draco carefully took his hands in his. "Hold on," he said. "Let's get you cleaned up a little."

"No magic," Scorpius said, trying to pull his hands back from Draco's. 

Draco held on and stroked his thumb across the dimples in Scorpius' knuckles. "No magic, of course."

Scorpius relaxed and Draco reached into the pocket of his robes to pull out a little handkerchief he carried especially for Scorpius. He wiped it over his palms and in between his small fingers. 

"There you go," he said, and tucked the handkerchief back in his pocket. 

Scorpius held his arms out and Draco took him up in his arms, indulgent. It was okay to be indulgent today. It was a long walk from their house to the cemetery, and Scorpius hated the squeezes and brushes of magic. They had a car, of course, but the day was bright and warm with the beginning of summer, and Draco didn't see much point in wasting the nice weather. 

Scorpius set his head down in the crook of Draco's neck, and Draco soothed his hand over his back as he walked around the edge of the house to the pathway into the main cobbled road. Harry stood waiting, his head down and his hand resting on the fence. Draco approached slowly and hushed to Scorpius to keep him calm and quiet. 

"Harry," Draco said, coming to stand beside him and closing the gate behind himself. 

Harry's head turned up. "Yes?"

"Are you ready, love?"

"Yes," Harry said absently. 

Draco set his hand over Harry's on the fence and twined their fingers together. "Come along," he said gently, and took Harry by the hand to lead him forward into the street. 

"It's Sunday," Harry mumbled, slightly behind him. 

"Yes," Draco said. "A very warm Sunday."

Harry nodded and looked around at the early sun glinting off windowpanes and crooked door handles, but Draco was sure he hadn't understood anything Draco had said or anything that was passing around him. Draco didn't mind. He held Harry's hand tightly in one hand, and held Scorpius' weight in the other arm, carrying the three of them along the stone pathways through Godric's Hollow. They passed the church, where Mrs. Hughes was toting her five children with her out the front door. She waved at them, and Draco nodded in return.

They did not pass the old Potter house. They never did on the way to the cemetery, always on Sundays. Harry insisted they only go to the house on their way home to their own cottage, returning from the graveyard. 

Most Sundays, Harry seemed almost normal. He smiled small smiles that Draco knew were for his and Scorpius's benefit, and kept up polite conversation until they reached the gates into the cemetery. Then he'd get awful quiet, and go on ahead without them. He'd take his time with his parents, and then he'd come back with red eyes, and wouldn't smile until they were home again. That was most Sundays. 

Some Sundays, Harry cried and muttered the whole walk to the other cemetery. Other times, he said nothing for days leading up to Sunday, and nothing for days following it. Other Sundays, like today, Harry lost himself in his own mind, and could barely move without Draco prompting him. 

And still, every Sunday they went to the cemetery. 

Scorpius shifted in Draco's arms and turned his head to the other side. Draco longed to hold him closer and stroke his hair back from his forehead, whisper to him that Daddy would be alright, he'd be able to play tomorrow. Scorpius didn't understand yet. All he could understand was that every Sunday, him and Daddy and Papa went to visit his Grandmum and Grandpa, and that Grandmum and Grandpa were not able to speak back to him when he told them about his new friends in reception. 

Draco took a heavy breath and tugged Harry along with him until they were standing in front of the gates to the cemetery. He dropped Harry's hand to open the gate, but then took it right back up again, and walked them through into the green meadow of stone and decaying cut flowers. 

Harry finally looked up from his feet and let his eyes wander across the names on headstones that they passed. Draco watched out of the corner of his eye as Harry's footsteps stuttered when they passed the statue of James and Lily and baby Harry. Draco did not look at it. He had seen the statue countless times, and he did not like to think about Harry as a tiny, tiny baby with no family. He also did not like to think about how familiar the shape of the trio was wrapped around each other, too similar to the family photos they had up on the mantle in their home. Draco and Harry leaned together with a little baby Scorpius in between them. James and Lily with their arms wrapped around each other and a little baby Harry in between them. It was close, so terrifying. Draco couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose his family, Harry and Scorpius. What it would be like if him and Harry died, and Scorpius was left alone in the world. 

No, Draco would rather not look at the statue today. 

"Draco," Harry said, distant. 

Draco stopped walking and looked back at Harry. "Yes? Are you alright?"

Harry was staring at Draco's shoelaces. "You got new shoes."

Draco startled and glanced down at the Oxfords Pansy had sent him for his birthday a few weeks ago. They came late, which Pansy apologized endlessly for while simultaneously cursing out the Owl Post. 

"I- Yes. Pansy gave them to me."

Harry said, "Right," and then walked on, letting go of Draco's hand and walking right past him and on to his parent's graves. 

Draco didn't follow, not for a long time. He knew, after years of life with Harry, when to follow and when to give him space. 

So he held Scorpius tight to his chest and ran his fingers through the hair at the back of his head. He sang quietly in his ear and rocked gently from hip to hip. Scorpius murmured into Draco's neck in what Draco supposed was an attempt to sing along. 

He knew when, from a distance, Harry's shoulders dropped from under his ears and he began to turn in Draco's direction, that it was time for him to approach. He conjured a bunch of flowers in his hand, and winced when Scorpius flinched at the magic. 

"Sorry, darling," Draco whispered in his ear. 

Scorpius grunted, but patted Draco's neck. "It's okay, Papa. Daddy needs them for Grandmum and Grandpa."

"Yes," Draco said, and smiled at him. "But I promise I'll bring cut ones next time, so we don't have to conjure any."

Scorpius set his head back on Draco's shoulder and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck as Draco made his way to Harry. He held out the flowers for Harry to take, and stood by in silence while Harry set them down on the graves.

Draco stared down at the inscription. _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death_. He swallowed hard and clutched his son closer to himself. 

Harry reached a hand out to touch Draco's arm. 

They turned around and walked back towards the entrance to the cemetery. Draco felt Scorpius lift his head, and knew he was staring at James and Lily's grave behind him. Draco had to put conscious effort into not squeezing Scorpius too hard. 

They left the cemetery, and Draco took them all to ice cream. 


End file.
